


The Five Stages of Grief

by snarkysweetness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Family, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-16 16:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkysweetness/pseuds/snarkysweetness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“There are five stages of grief. They look different on all of us, but there are always five.” Emma grieves for Graham and when she is finally ready to move on it’s time to start the grieving process over, this time for August.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grief

**Author's Note:**

> While re-watching the Season Six opening for Grey’s Anatomy, I got inspired to write this because poor Emma keeps losing the men in her life. The quote used throughout is from the Grey’s Anatomy episodes ‘Good Mourning’ and ‘Goodbye’. I started this during the summer break from the show, so there is nothing from Season Two in here. Thanks to my wife for reading this despite the amount of feels it gave her. The story is complete and is seven chapters long. Since it took me so long to make myself finish this, I’m going to torture you all by trying to post this one chapter at a time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma’s cycle of grief for Graham.

_When we're dying or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through five distinct stages of grief. We go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable we can't imagine it's true. We become angry with everyone, angry with survivors, angry with ourselves. Then we bargain. We beg. We plead. We offer everything we have; we offer our souls in exchange for just one more day. When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we've done everything we can. We let go. We let go and move into acceptance._  
  
 _There are five stages of grief. They look different on all of us, but there are always five._  
  
 _Denial._  
  
“She hasn’t cried. It’s been four days and she just…”  
  
“Sometimes, it’s easier to just go to work and to avoid dealing with what’s going on,” Archie whispered back to Mary Margaret.  
  
Emma sat curled up in the corner of her bed. She could hear every word the two exchanged. It was impossible not to, with the way the loft was designed. She pushed herself out of bed and did her best to avoid their worried hushing coming up to her from the floor below.  
  
“She’s working too hard, Archie. Yesterday, she ran out of things to do in the office and went out to give traffic tickets on purpose. She even gave Ruby one for jaywalking. She won’t even…talk about going to the funeral.”  
  
“Well, she has to go, she won’t…you didn’t see her, Mary Margaret. It took three of us to pry her off of him when the ambulance arrived, I think she’s still in shock.”  
  
Emma hurried down the stairs, hoping to avoid them both.  
  
“Well, maybe you shou-Emma! Hey! You…why aren’t you dressed?”  
  
Emma glanced down at her Deputy’s uniform with a shrug and went for her jacket.  
  
“I’m going to work, Mary Margaret.”  
  
“But today’s the-“  
  
“I’ve got to go; I’ll see you guys later.”  
  
She didn’t wait for a response before slamming the door shut behind her on her way out.  
  
 _Anger._  
  
All of the denial in the world hadn’t stopped Emma from changing at the station and attending the funeral anyway. She stood in the back, wanting to avoid Regina, and was the first to leave, followed by Ruby, who stood in silence as Emma tore apart her desk at the station in a fit of rage before curling up on the floor and letting herself cry.  
  
Seeing Graham put into the ground made it all real and she couldn’t fight the images of his death anymore.  
  
 _Her stomach fluttered as he leaned in for another kiss. She couldn’t fight what she’d been feeling for weeks, not anymore. She leaned up to meet him halfway when-_  
  
Emma let out a strangled sob, recalling the horror she’d felt as she watched Graham die. Ruby’s arms wrapped around Emma and she held her firmly against her chest. Ruby said nothing, she just let Emma cry, and afterward, she never spoke of Emma’s moment of weakness again.  
  
Her small act of kindness spared her from Emma’s anger, unfortunately, everyone else wasn’t as lucky.  
  
It was easier to pick fights with Mary Margaret, she was always around. Then along came Archie, because he couldn’t let anything go. The more he tried to help and get Emma to open up, the more she lashed out at him. Mr. Gold knew better than to speak about Graham until he had a way to help her channel her anger, right in Regina’s direction.  
  
Suddenly it became about making sure Regina didn’t win, that Graham’s job, _her_ job, didn’t go to some mindless minion.  
  
Once the badge was hers and Gold had somehow snuck Graham’s things into the station, Emma’s anger had been replaced with a small sense of calm, but it didn’t last.  
  
 _Bargaining._  
  
She’d never been one for praying, what was the point? If God did exist, he clearly had better things to do than to help her. After all, she’d been abandoned on the side of a highway and left to navigate through the cruel world of the foster system on her own before getting caught up in a life of crime with Henry’s father which had led to her losing Henry and her dignity.  
  
But here she was, in a church, with a nun, a complete mess, trying to understand why she couldn’t have Graham back. It seemed unfair that the moment she finally came to accept love it had been cruelly ripped away from her before she could enjoy it.  
  
She’d prayed at home, alone in the church, by crying out in the middle of forest in the hopes that God would hear her, but none of it had worked. And from the look of pity on Mother Superior’s face, Emma could feel what little hope she had left slowly slip away.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
 _Depression._  
  
“Sorry, Mayor, she’s really sick, I think it could be contagious. I’m having Ruby take her to see Dr. Whale. Don’t worry; she’ll be back in the station by Monday. Right. Good-bye.”  
  
Ruby ran her fingers through Emma’s hair as she whispered a lullaby Granny had taught her as a child. After spending the past week crying in her spare time and trying to keep it together at the station, Emma had indulged in one too many drinks, and completely fallen apart the night before.  
  
“It’s going to be okay, Emma,” Mary Margaret whispered, kneeling next to the couch to provide Emma with a new box of tissues.  
  
“No, it’s not. Everything hurts and I don’t…I just want him back.”  
  
Ruby and Mary Margaret exchanged worried glances.  
  
“I know, Emma. I know.”  
  
With Ruby still stroking her hair, Emma fell into a restless sleep, her dreams too vivid to keep out for long.  
  
 _“You need to let me go, Emma.”_  
  
 _“But I don’t want to.”_  
  
 _Graham pulled her hand away from his cheek and brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing them._  
  
 _“Goodbye.”_  
  
 _Emma watched, frozen, as he slowly faded away from view._  
  
 _“Graham, don’t go!”_  
  
Emma sat up in a sweat, looking around wildly, expecting to see Graham. Her eyes landed on Henry and she choked back a sob, but it was too late. She could tell from the look of pain in his eyes that Henry could see what a mess she was.  
  
“Henry, I-“  
  
He launched himself at her and Emma hugged him close and tightly, holding onto him like her life depended on it.  
  
 _Acceptance._  
  
Henry pulled her out of her depression. She couldn’t let him down any more than she already had, so when Monday came, she was back in the office, clear headed, and with all reminders of Graham safely tucked away in her closet.  
  
She needed to be strong for Henry and that meant she had to really say goodbye to him.  
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, I just…really suck at this,” Emma whispered, looking down at the bouquet of flowers she’d neatly placed at the head of Graham’s grave. She closed her eyes, feeling stupid, but Archie said this would help and for once, she was listening.  
  
“I think-I mean-I loved you, Graham, for a few minutes there, and maybe we could have had something, but I can’t keep thinking about what could have been because it’s never going to happen. I’ll never forget you and I think, because of you, maybe, someday, I’ll finally let myself love someone who isn’t Henry, so thank you for that. And I promise, I’ll be a good Sheriff, not nearly as good as you were, but I’ll try.”  
  
She bit her lip and let out a long sigh.  
  
“So…um…goodbye, Graham.”  
  
 _Grief may be a thing we all have in common, but it looks different on everyone._  
  
 _Grief comes in its own time for everyone, in its own way._  
  
Emma stepped out of the gates and towards her yellow bug, smirking as she saw who was leaning against the hood.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
“Hey,” he said, pushing himself off of the car. “I owed you another drink, so here.”  
  
Emma smiled and took the cup of coffee from August’s hand.  
  
“Smooth, August, very smooth,” she said, shaking her head as she motioned for him to join her in the bug, having no desire to linger near Graham’s resting place any longer than she had to.  
  
 _The very worst part is that the minute you think you’re past it, it starts all over again._  
  
 _And always, every time, it takes your breath away._


	2. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma refuses to accept that August is gone, so she ignores it by throwing herself into work.

_We go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable we can't imagine it's true._  
  
Emma threw down her badge and jacket, letting out a long sigh. Since breaking the curse it seemed like her work never stopped. Even with her father (and it was still weird getting used to the idea that she had her dad around) as her Deputy and the Dwarves once again working as the royal guard, there were still too many disputes to settle.  
  
Things like the legality of the marriages in the town. After some help from Rumpelstiltskin and a few trips out of town to do some research, Emma had discovered that to the outside world, Storybrooke didn’t exist. So all of the ‘marriages’ weren’t legal, leaving everyone free to return to their pre-cursed lives without having to worry about the messy matter of divorce. Of course, in the weeks before they’d figured it out, Emma’s days had been spent settling duels between real husbands and fake husbands and helping to decide which parents got to keep which kids and whatnot. Everything was a mess.  
  
And even without the legal aspect to things, families were still torn apart. Like poor Grace, who wanted to be with her father, but couldn’t deny the parents she’d spent the past thirty years living with.  
  
It all gave Emma a headache.  
  
If she hadn’t promised Henry, who she now had full custody of due to his adoption not being done legally thanks to Gold’s hatred towards the Mayor, that she wouldn’t kill Regina, she’d be dead. Of course, Emma was the only one who had made such a promise, so Regina had long ago gone into hiding to avoid the angry townspeople.  
  
But Emma suspected the only real person she feared was Rumpelstiltskin.  
  
“Emma, what are you doing? It’s past midnight.”  
  
She rolled her eyes and threw herself into her swirly chair before turning to face her father.  
  
“I had to deal with an angry butcher who wanted to kill Go-Rumpe-whatever the Hell you want to call him. Apparently there was an incident with a pig back in our land and the man can really hold a grudge. Plus we found another prison Regina didn’t tell us about in the clock tower-“  
  
“That’s what you have deputies for, Emma.”  
  
She’d only had parents for a few weeks, but the sharp tone in Charming’s voice caused her to wince and feel like a very small child.  
  
“Dad-“  
  
“It’s your birthday; you should be at home, resting. Your mother’s been planning a party for you and do you really want to put on the princess act on no sleep?”  
  
Emma pouted.  
  
“No-“  
  
Charming leaned down and kissed the top of her head.  
  
“I hate all of that royal crap, too, Emma, but us keeping it up is the only thing keeping people from trying to leave town again. And don’t think I don’t know the reason why you keep hiding behind your work.”  
  
“I’m the Sheriff, it’s my-“  
  
Charming cut her off with a ‘look’ and she sighed.  
  
“I told Geppetto you’d see him tomorrow.”  
  
“But why-“  
  
“It’s not fair to him, to keep putting it off.”  
  
Emma closed her eyes, not wanting to have this conversation.  
  
“You’re right.”  
  
“Good, I’ll tell him-“  
  
“I should go home and sleep. You coming with me?”  
  
Emma stood and gathered her things, while avoiding looking directly at her father.  
  
“Em-“ Charming sighed. “No. I’ll lock up.”  
  
Emma tried to move past him, but he pulled her against him and kissed the top of her head again.  
  
“Happy birthday, baby girl.”  
  
Emma wrinkled her nose. She hated the nickname, but the more she protested, the more he used it.  
  
“Thanks, dad.”  
  
Emma entered the loft she now shared with only Henry. Abigail had insisted they take the house because Frederick had his own and while Emma didn’t mind the idea of living with her parents, she wanted to give Henry everything, which she couldn’t do if she had to depend on her parents all the time.  
  
She set her things down quietly and tip-toed to the overhead loft, her old bedroom which she had given to Henry so he could have more privacy. She expected to find him and her mother asleep, but they both sat up, waiting for her.  
  
“Isn’t it a little late to be up, kid?”  
  
“I couldn’t sleep.”  
  
“He was worried something had happened to you when you missed dinner.”  
  
Her mother sent her a disapproving look and Emma furrowed her brows. Snow White was not someone you wanted to piss off, something Emma was slowly coming to realize.  
  
“Sorry, I would have come home sooner, but…” Emma shrugged, not wanting to discuss things in front of Henry. She knew he would eventually find out what went on in the town while he was safe at school, which Snow now ran so she could protect the children with her sword and bow if necessary, but she still wanted to shield him from the bad things. For an eleven-year old, he’d seen far more evil than Emma cared for him to ever have seen.  
  
“Did someone try to kill Mr. Gold again?”  
  
“Henry-go to bed.”  
  
Emma took his book and set it aside before leaning down to kiss his forehead.  
  
“Happy birthday, mom.”  
  
She smiled.  
  
“Thanks and you’re still going to school in the morning.”  
  
Henry groaned and Emma flipped off his light and followed Snow down the stairs.  
  
“Thanks for staying with him, I’m going to talk to see if I can find him a real babysi-“  
  
“Dammit, Emma, you need to stop this,” Snow snapped, interrupting Emma.  
  
Emma was taken aback.  
  
“What?”  
  
“This. You’re-it’s like Graham all over again, but this time is different. You have Henry; you can’t just hide in your work. It was unhealthy the first time around but it’s affecting Henry. This is the third time this week you’ve missed dinner with him. He just got you back, Emma. We all got you back and it’s like you’re not even here.  
  
August is dead, Emma, and you need to deal with that before it hurts Henry even more.  
  
You won’t even talk about him…  
  
Henry…  
  
You’re not the only one who loved him, Emma. So you need to deal with this like an adult for Henry. This is all confusing and painful for him and having to worry about you isn’t helping.”  
  
Emma stepped away and went for her bedroom.  
  
“I can’t believe this, the two of you really needed to pick today to gang up on me? At least dad was more subtle about it.”  
  
“Your father is more willing to overlook things because when he looks at you he still sees the baby he put into the wardrobe.”  
  
“But not you?”  
  
“No, Emma. You’re my daughter and I love you, but you’re a grown woman. The only child in this family is Henry and he’s suffered enough because of-“ Snow cut herself off.  
  
Emma turned to face her mother, angry.  
  
“Say it. Because of me. Because if I hadn’t given him away, his life would have been better. Right?”  
  
Snow’s face softened.  
  
“Emma, I’m sorry. I know better than anyone that sometimes you have to make hard choices-“  
  
“It _was_ hard. And I hate myself for it. Every day. You don’t have to remind me that I make horrible parenting choices. I remember it every time I look at him and it hits me that I missed everything.” Emma closed her eyes and sighed. “Maybe we should just move in with you…at least then Henry would have real parents.”  
  
Snow pulled Emma into a hug and held her tightly for a moment before pulling away and looking Emma in the eye.  
  
“You’re a wonderful mother, Emma. You put Henry first, that’s what matters. But you’re also-You’re not dealing with your pain, Emma. I know it’s been hard on you, and to be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t broken down, most people would have. I’m proud of you, sweetheart. You’ve dealt with the curse, magic, your father and me, and all of this really well, but honey…”  
  
Emma closed her eyes, trying not to cry.  
  
“Don’t…”  
  
“He’s gone, Emma, and you need to accept that.”  
  
“I _can’t_ ,” Emma whispered.  
  
Snow placed her hand on Emma’s cheek.  
  
“Sweetheart, you tried everything. True Love’s Kiss, fairy dust, all of the magic we’ve been able to find-he’s not coming back.”  
  
An involuntary sob escaped Emma’s lips and her mother pulled her against her once more, running her fingers through Emma’s hair.  
  
“Maybe, if we find a way home-“  
  
Snow ‘shushed’ her and Emma gave up. She couldn’t let go of August. This wasn’t like Graham. Graham’s heart had been crushed, there had never been hope for him, but August…with enough magic surely he could come back to her. And unlike Graham, who Emma had only had a fleeting moment with; August had been her rock, the one person she could always count on. He was her best friend and Henry loved him, she needed him back.  
  
“I know you love him, Emma, but…”  
  
Emma pulled away and wiped her eyes.  
  
“I’m…I should sleep. I promised I’d see Geppetto in the morning,” she whispered, wanting the subject dropped.  
  
Snow gave Emma a stern look but Emma stared back and eventually Snow gave up.  
  
“I’ll bring Henry home from school. Try to be on time for your party, will you?”  
  
Emma nodded and turned away, waiting until she was alone to climb into bed.  
  
She didn’t sleep that night, instead she tossed and turned, evaluating her every action and whether or not Henry was happy. Eventually, she gave up and showered, settling herself at the kitchen table with coffee and some case files, which was where Henry found her in the morning.  
  
“Hey, kid.”  
  
“Morning, mom,” he said and the surprise in his voice killed her.  
  
Dammit, her mother had been right.  
  
“Why don’t you get ready for school and we’ll head over to Granny’s for breakfast?”  
  
“Really? You don’t have to be at work early?”  
  
Emma put on a smile.  
  
“Nope, I’m not working today and Thomas and some of the other princes are going to help out with some things around town that the Sheriff’s office shouldn’t be dealing with in the first place.”  
  
Henry threw him arms around her neck before rushing off to get ready for school.  
  
After a quick breakfast and dropping Henry off, Emma found herself standing at the edge of Geppetto’s driveway, trying to work up the nerve to see him. Shifting her weight to the balls of her feet, she pulled her hands out of her pockets and took a deep breath before slowly making her way towards the open garage.  
  
“Geppetto?”  
  
Emma called out; surprised he wasn’t out here working. She approached his work bench, his current project catching her eye. She caressed the smooth wood, confusion lining her features. She studied the container, trying to figure out what it could be for when her eyes landed on a curved plane of glass leaning against the wall.  
  
“Emma, I didn’t hear you-“  
  
“What is this?”  
  
Emma glanced up at him accusingly.  
  
Geppetto approached her slowly, toying with August’s old red hat between his hands.  
  
“I-I need to put my boy to rest. It’s too painful…” He gave her a pleading look and Emma stepped away from the casket, horrified.  
  
“But he’s not dead! It’s me! I’m not his True Love, that’s why nothing’s working; we just need to keep trying!”  
  
He gave her a sad look and shook his head.  
  
“No, my boy loved you. When he came to work here with me…all he could speak of was you and Henry. If anyone could bring him back it’s you. Please, I can’t keep holding on to him, he deserves to be at peace.”  
  
Tears fell over her cheeks and Emma shook her head.  
  
She knew if she begged him to, Geppetto would keep August where he was; safe in a bedroom upstairs. But could she put him through such a thing?  
  
Yes, she decided, she could.  
  
“Please…just…wait? Two more weeks and if we can’t bring him back-“  
  
Emma looked away, unable to bear the pain on Geppetto’s face.  
  
“It will be another week before I finish,” he whispered after a long moment.  
  
“Okay.” She waited a long moment before hesitantly speaking. “Can I see him?”  
  
Geppetto motioned for her to enter the house and Emma wiped at her eyes as she made her way towards the small upstairs bedroom.  
  
She lingered in the doorway, working up the nerve to approach the bed, where August lay, still as the night she’d returned to find him still in his wooden tomb. She had hoped breaking the curse would undo the transformation she’d witnessed, but the weeks had gone by and he was still lifeless.  
  
 _Lifeless._  
  
All of the air left her chest and Emma collapsed at his bedside, sobbing.  
  
It hit her then, the truth she’d been avoiding all of this time. Nothing had worked because he was gone and nothing was going to bring him back. She’d loved two men in her life and they’d both died on her. Her life was a cruel, sick joke.  
  
“I’m sorry. This is my fault. I killed you because I didn’t break the curse in time.”  
  
Emma covered her mouth to muffle her sobs, not wanting Geppetto to hear her.  
  
She took August’s hand, the way she had that night in Granny’s, and she rested her head against his chest, waiting until every last sob had escaped her before pulling away. Wiping at her eyes, Emma took a few deeps breaths, composing herself.  
  
She leaned over and carefully but firmly pressed her lips against his.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, waiting a moment to see if anything happened.  
  
When it didn’t, she felt disgusted with her inability to accept that he was gone, even now, and made her way back to the garage.  
  
“I think when you’re finished; we should find a place to put him. Somewhere open with a lot of light, he would have liked that.”  
  
Geppetto hugged her tightly, his gratitude showing on his aging features.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Emma shook him off and nodded, unable to speak. Her resolve to let August go, for Henry’s sake was slowly morphing into something else and while she couldn’t name it yet, she knew anything that came out of her mouth in that moment would hurt Geppetto’s feelings and she’d put him through enough.


	3. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angry with herself and the world, Emma lashes out at everyone to avoid the pain of losing August.

_We become angry with everyone, angry with survivors, angry with ourselves._  
  
“DAMMIT!”  
  
Emma hissed as she pulled her bleeding finger away from the cutting board, immediately sticking it into her mouth where she sucked on the tender flesh, trying not to cringe at the taste of her own blood. She threw the knife into the sink as if it had personally offended her and turned the faucet on, cursing under breath as she cleaned the wound.  
  
“Taking things out on the utensils, again?”  
  
Ruby sat across the counter and frowned in Emma’s direction, setting down the block of cheese she’d been grating.  
  
“Here, give me.”  
  
Emma pulled her hand away but Ruby glared at her and Emma reluctantly handed it over. Within seconds Ruby make shifted a tourniquet from a dish cloth and released Emma’s hand.  
  
“There you go. You, sit, I’ll finish this, I knew better than to let you do the hard stuff,” Ruby teased, checking on the chicken for their tacos.  
  
“At least I’m trying,” Emma grumbled, annoyed.  
  
It wasn’t that Emma couldn’t cook; it was that she never tried. When she’d been younger, she worked in crappy diners and ate diner food all the time and when she worked as a Recovery Agent, she’d eaten lots of take-away. It wasn’t until she found herself raising an eleven-year-old boy (an eleven-year-old boy who kept growing out of things and ate more than she thought humanly possible) that she found she couldn’t avoid learning any longer.  
  
After all, she couldn’t exactly take him to Granny’s for every meal.  
  
“Yes, you do try, which is something. Though…”  
  
Emma tossed some of her grated cheese into a bowl and sighed, annoyed.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Maybe you should talk to Jimi-Archie. The utensils aren’t the only things you’ve been taking things out on lately.”  
  
“If you’re talking about Ashl-Ella-Dammit, Red, I can’t keep any of your names straight anymore-If It’s about her, I apologized. And it’s not like I snapped at her on purpose.”  
  
Emma looked down for a moment before meeting Ruby’s eyes.  
  
“You guys know I don’t like to talk about the arrangements…”  
  
Ruby began dicing a tomato and shook her head.  
  
“I know you’re trying, Emma, and you were a lot worse…well, you know, but you’re holding it in and then you explode on people. I know you don’t want to risk getting angry with Geppetto and Henry, but everyone else shouldn’t have to suffer for it.”  
  
Emma tossed the rest of the cheese into her bowl and wiped off her hands.  
  
“Yeah, well, at least I’m trying. And I’m not…never mind.”  
  
The truth was she was angry. Angry with the world, angry with everyone who still had all of the people they loved, and angry with herself. Out of everyone she was the angriest with herself. She was responsible for August dying and her desire to shield Henry from her anger had led to her bottling it all up, but what else was she to do? Unleash it all the time?  
  
Maybe she had snapped at the occasional, unsuspecting townsperson, but she’d avoided hurting the people she actually cared about with her actions, which had to count for something.  
  
Maybe.  
  
“All Archie tells me to do is to ‘channel’ my anger into something productive. I’ve already killed the only dragon in this town, how much more productive does he expect me to be?”  
  
Ruby opened her mouth to speak but the door opened and she waved Emma off, going back to her tomatoes.  
  
“Hi Ruby! Mom!”  
  
Emma toyed with the bandage on her hand and turned to greet Henry.  
  
“Hey kid, I’m-we’re making dinner.”  
  
Henry set his backpack down warily and moved into the kitchen, sniffing at the pans on the stove.  
  
“Ruby?”  
  
Ruby shrugged.  
  
“Your mom did most of it, I just helped.”  
  
Henry frowned and Emma groaned.  
  
“Come on, kid, my cooking’s not that bad!”  
  
Henry gave Emma the same look she wore when she was skeptical of something.  
  
“Well…at least you didn’t burn it. Thanks, Ruby,” he muttered on his way to grab himself a juice box from the fridge.  
  
Ruby gave Emma a smug look.  
  
“I’m trying!” Emma snapped playfully, getting up to turn off the burners.  
  
“I miss August’s cooking,” Henry whispered after a long moment, staring down at the drink in his hand.  
  
The spoon in Emma’s hand fell with a clang to the floor and she stood still for a moment, dazed. No one dared to speak August’s name anymore and hearing it after so long took her by surprise. She snapped herself out of it and grabbed a towel to clean up her mess, but Henry was already there, shaking.  
  
“I’m sorry, mom! I promise, I didn’t mean it. I forgot!”  
  
“Woah, kid, calm down.”  
  
Henry kept scrubbing at the mess until Emma took his hands and pulled him into her lap.  
  
“Henry, it’s fine, it’s just a spill.”  
  
“No! I mean…” Henry looked up at her and it stung when she saw that he was close to tears. “You’re not mad?”  
  
“I…no.”  
  
Had she gotten so bad her own kid was afraid of her?  
  
“Why would you think I’d be mad at you?”  
  
“Because you’re mad all the time, even when you want to pretend you’re not to protect me. Ever since Geppetto started planning the funeral, you’re just…whenever my mom-I mean Regina was mad, she always-“  
  
“Hey, I’m not Regina.”  
  
Now Emma was pissed. Henry hadn’t seen Regina in weeks and even though he still had sessions with Archie, the damage she’d done to him hadn’t been erased. Emma could kill Regina for the emotional and mental abuse she’d inflicted on Henry.  
  
She wasn’t proud of herself for it, but if Regina ever showed her face again, she took pleasure in knowing someone else in town would take care of her; for everyone.  
  
“But I said his name and then you-“  
  
“I was just surprised, Henry. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”  
  
Emma touched his cheek and then pulled him in for a hug.  
  
“You talk about August whenever you want, kid. I know you loved him.”  
  
“But it makes you sad,” Henry said quietly.  
  
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t talk about him.”  
  
Emma pulled away from him and ran her hand through his hair, wishing she could fix this for him.  
  
“I don’t like to talk about him because it’s my fault he’s gone, Henry. I should have believed sooner. You’re right, I’m mad all the time, but it’s not with you. It will never be with you, do you get that?”  
  
Henry nodded and wrapped his arms around her neck, before burying his face against her shoulder. Emma hugged him back tightly.  
  
“It’s not your fault, mom,” he whispered as he pulled away.  
  
Emma wished she could agree with him but she didn’t want to lie, so she just sighed and ruffled his hair.  
  
“Go get cleaned up and we’ll have dinner, okay?”  
  
Henry gave her a sad nod before rushing off and Emma slowly made her way back up, burying her face in her hands as she leaned against the counter.  
  
“I am the world’s worst mother.”  
  
“Hey.”  
  
Emma looked up to find Ruby giving her an encouraging smile.  
  
“You’re trying.”  
  
The next morning Emma paced in front of the sofa, wishing she could punch something.  
  
“You look ready to take someone’s head off.”  
  
“Oh geeze, Archie, I wonder why. My kid’s emotionally fucked up, the people in this town can’t stop fighting over stupid crap, and oh yeah, and we’re burying my boyfriend this week. I think I have every right to be pissed off.”  
  
Archie sat in his armchair nervously, trying to keep up with Emma’s movements, but after a few moments, he stood and stopped her.  
  
“Just sit down.”  
  
“I can’t…I just…I need to do something. I don’t do well with sitting still.”  
  
“I can see that, but you came to me, and generally the way this works is we sit and talk.”  
  
“I came because Henry gave me his sad eyes and I couldn’t say ‘no’ to him.”  
  
“So…Henry’s the reason why you’re trying to take control of your anger?”  
  
Emma rolled her eyes and sat on the edge of the couch.  
  
“Don’t try to shrink me, Jiminy.”  
  
He sighed and took a seat.  
  
“Look, I know this is hard for you, but you’re trying to cope which is a lot more than you did after Graham died. And I’m assuming it’s because of Henry.”  
  
Emma sighed.  
  
“Of course it’s because of Henry. Back then I didn’t have to worry about him, but now I’m the one who has to look out for him.”  
  
“Do you want to talk about him?”  
  
“Henry?”  
  
“August. Or Graham,” he added as an afterthought.  
  
“Not really.”  
  
Archie held his hands out, exasperated.  
  
“Emma, you’re not giving me much to work with here.”  
  
“What do you want me to say, Archie? I started to fall for a guy who was sleeping with Regina and she killed him because of it? And because Graham let me feel something and Henry made me realize I’d missed out on letting people in I tried with August and then he died?  
  
Or how every man in my life, my father included, eventually abandoned me? With the exception of Henry, who I abandoned.  
  
I’m screwed up, Archie; no amount of talking is going to fix it.  
  
I just need time which I can’t have because I’m trying to be responsible for my kid. As much as I want to rip people’s heads off, I can’t, so I keep it in. I’m trying to be strong for him and yeah, maybe I’m mad all the time, but it’s better than locking myself up and crying all day.”  
  
Okay, that had been a mouthful, but Emma just wanted to leave. She’d regretted coming the moment she walked in.  
  
“Okay, that was all good; you’re starting to open up. And I agree that it’s good that you are trying to live your life and be strong for Henry, but it’s also damaging to let yourself bottle all of that-“  
  
“Jimin-I’m sorry, I will come back.”  
  
Emma jumped up, ready to kiss Geppetto for interrupting.  
  
“It’s okay, Geppetto, I need to get back to the station anyway.”  
  
“Emma-“  
  
Emma sent Archie a pleading look. She was terrible at this stuff. She needed a few drinks before she could talk about any of this. She knew he and Henry meant well, but therapy was not for her.  
  
“Fine, I’ll see you tonight.”  
  
Emma slid on her jacket while shooting Archie a confused look.  
  
“Tonight?”  
  
“The wake?”  
  
“You must come, Emma,” Geppetto interjected.  
  
She closed her eyes and thought for a long moment.  
  
“Of course I’m coming, but I thought it was on Friday?”  
  
Geppetto took Emma’s hand gently.  
  
“It is Friday.”  
  
Emma opened her eyes and had a hard time feeling angry with herself for forgetting with Geppetto around. She supposed she should feel guilty being near him, but instead she just felt a calm settle over her.  
  
“Right, I guess I lost track of my week. I’ll see you both tonight.”  
  
To appease her mother Emma had put in an honest effort to be alert and social, but after the tenth ‘I’m so sorry’ hug she had to plow through, Emma couldn’t handle it anymore. Sneaking through the garage door, Emma made her way into the yard, needing some fresh air. She knew the next person who gave her the pity look would end up a victim of her wrath and this was not the place for that.  
  
Crunching of leaves alerted Emma that she wasn’t alone and she sighed in frustration.  
  
“Can’t I just get five minutes to myself, Archie, I don’t want to fucking talk about it!”  
  
Emma turned, ready to tell Archie off, because really, who else would be following her out here? However, when she came face-to-face with her companion, she was truly surprised to find Geppetto lingering near the porch.  
  
“I’m-I thought you were Archie or my mom,” Emma explained, fidgeting with her fingers as she stepped into the light spilling out from the overhead lamp.  
  
Geppetto approached her, taking one of her hands in his own.  
  
“I know this is all very hard for you.”  
  
“Geppetto don-“ Emma closed her eyes and collected herself. “What I’m feeling is nothing compared to what you’re going through. I lost Henry and I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone and I at least got him back.”  
  
Geppetto lifted her hand to his and kissed it and Emma suddenly understood where August inherited his charm from.  
  
“Come, I have something for you.”  
  
Geppetto led Emma into his workroom and she placed her hands on the worktable, watching as he pulled the little red hat down from a spot on a shelf. The one thing he’d kept with him through his whole life, like her baby blanket. If anyone was meant to have it, it wasn’t her.  
  
“Geppetto I coul-“  
  
He carefully picked up a larger object, which the hat had been resting on and brought it over to her. Emma’s cheeks flushed for a moment as Geppetto held the item out for her.  
  
“He’d want you to have this.”  
  
She took it from him and realized she was holding his leather jacket. Bringing it close to her body, she could still smell him on it.  
  
Awesome, two dead lovers and all she had to show for it was a pair of leather jackets.  
  
She’d laugh if it wasn’t so damn depressing.  
  
“I-“ She tried to find word to thank him but a small, strangled sob escaped her instead. Geppetto approached her to give her a hug but Emma held up a hand to keep him away.  
  
“Don’t-I can’t take it anymore! You’re too nice! You should hate me! He’s dead because of me! Because I didn’t break the curse in time! He tried to make believe! All he did was help me and I was too stupid to see it until it was too late!  
  
I’m the reason he’s gone and you shouldn’t be giving me his things and worrying about my feelings!”  
  
She clutched the jacket to her chest, choking back sobs while tasting the salt from her tears.  
  
“I _killed_ him,” she hissed.  
  
The always calm Geppetto approached her and after flinching away from his attempt to hug her, she let him take her by the hand.  
  
“My boy was not perfect, Emma. He believed he brought this upon himself. But he was wrong. This land was without magic for so long…it would have happened eventually. And you are not to blame for this; you did the best you could. You saved us. And my boy, my Pin-August, he loved you. So much. He would not want this for you, to hate yourself, to blame yourself.  
  
You have your son. All August would have wanted was for the two of you to be a family. To be happy.  
  
Be happy, Princess, if not for yourself then for Henry and for my boy.”  
  
Goddamn him.  
  
Emma leaned into Geppetto’s arms and let him hold her as she cried onto his shirt.  
  
A hesitant throat clearing alerted Emma to a new arrival and she pulled away from Geppetto, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve.  
  
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but Maurice would like to make sure the arrangements are to your liking.”  
  
Geppetto nodded towards Blue and gave Emma a look that said he’d put if off if she needed him.  
  
Emma shook her head and hugged August’s jacket close.  
  
“Go on, I’ll be in in a few minutes.”  
  
She waited until she was alone before bringing the jacket up to her face, immersing herself in his scent. She’d missed the smell of him, which had lingered on her sheets until she couldn’t not wash them anymore. Slipping on the jacket, she closed her eyes and tried to imagine the feel of his arms, but when she couldn’t manage it she let out a small sigh of defeat.  
  
Stepping back into the house, Emma very carefully made her way into the spare bedroom towards the back of the house, not wanting to alert anyone to her presence. She slipped in, keeping the light off, and used a small bit of her magic to cast a dim glow to the room. As powerful as she was, she tried to avoid magic at all costs, but for August, she’d risk paying a price for it. Though, she had to say, losing him was a pretty damn big price, so maybe the gods of magic could let this one slide.  
  
She had yet to see him lain out, having avoided it until now. The funeral was tomorrow and she couldn’t wait until then. She refused to let Henry see her weep over him. Tomorrow wasn’t about her; it was about giving Geppetto and Henry a chance to say good-bye, so she’d be brave, for them.  
  
Emma took a seat next to him, placing her hand over his smooth cheek, smiling as she studied his wooden features. Even as a puppet he was still the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. He even retained his stubble. A sad laugh escaped her and she ran her hand over his shirt, glad the glass lid had yet to be placed over his casket, allowing her to have a few final moments with him.  
  
She sat for a long moment, thinking about what was to come, when it finally hit her that they were going to put him to rest. _Officially_. Sure, he wasn’t being buried, but…  
  
Emma closed her eyes as a lone tear spilled onto her face and her heart constricted in her chest.  
  
“No.”  
  
This wasn’t right. There had to be something they hadn’t tried. She couldn’t let him go. Not if there was still hope. She stood quickly, knocking over her chair in the process. She paced for a moment, unsure of what to do.  
  
“Of course,” she whispered, moving to the coffin and leaning in to brush her lips across August’s forehead. She stared down at him, a look of determination in her eyes. “I’m going to find a way to bring you back. I promise.”  
  
With a final look, Emma swiftly left the room and slipped out of the house, heading to make a deal with the devil himself.


	4. Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma desperately tries to get August back by making deals and trying to use magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for crazy Emma, folks. Also be prepared for feels. All of the feels. Geppetto feels, Rumbelle feels, medieval chic door lock feels, daddy! August feels, Red Swan bromance feels, Henry feels, Charming family feels, etc. Seriously, this chapter is longer than the other three put together and it’s all feels, so don’t blame me when you cry, because you will cry.

_Then we bargain. We beg. We plead. We offer everything we have; we offer our souls in exchange for just one more day._  
  
Emma lifted her hand and banged her knuckles against the door, knocking loudly. Stepping back, she stuck her hands in her pockets, trying not to fidget. She didn’t want to be here. This was the last person she wanted to ask for help, especially since she stilled owed him a favor, but with the Blue Fairy’s magic being limited, he was the most powerful being in town. She didn’t know what kind of dark magic he’d have available to him, but she didn’t care anymore; she was desperate.  
  
“Emma?”  
  
She looked up, not surprised to find Belle standing in the doorway.  
  
“I need to see him.”  
  
Belle stepped onto the porch, looking uncomfortable.  
  
“Now’s not the best-“  
  
“ _Now_.”  
  
Belle watched her for a moment before her unyielding kindness took over and she nodded, leading Emma towards the back of the house. She pushed open the door to the basement and they carefully walked in, the smell of the different herbs making Emma feel woozy.  
  
“Rumpel?” Belle called, clearly uncomfortable being around so much magic. Emma couldn’t blame her; the air was thick with it and it sent a chill through her spine.  
  
“Sweetheart, I thought I told you I’d be up-Sheriff Swan, to what do I owe the pleasure?”  
  
Rumpelstiltskin emerged from a hidden work room and crossed to Belle’s side, placing a small kiss on the top of her head.  
  
“Can we talk, alone?”  
  
Belle didn’t need to hear any of this, especially since she knew how much she disapproved of Rumpel using dark magic, which Emma was sure would be required to accomplish this task.  
  
“Any business you have with me can be said in front of Belle, we have no secrets here. Come, let’s go inside and you can tell me why you’re here.”  
  
Emma nodded, trailing close behind, stopping to stare at some of the potions before hurrying to catch up. If only she hadn’t given Rumpel that potion in the elevator shaft…it could have saved Henry and August and she’d have both of her boys.  
  
She entered Rumpel’s pink house, trying not to feel weirded out by how normal it all seemed. To anyone who didn’t know how deadly Rumpel could be she supposed he and Belle could appear to be a normal, happily married couple; very Stepford Wives, but Emma knew the truth.  
  
Emma took a seat on the sofa while Storybrooke’s oddest couple sat together on the loveseat.  
  
“Can we get you anything? Tea, cof-“  
  
“Damn it, Rumpel, you and I both know why I’m here, so let’s just get on with it.”  
  
Emma sent him a glare and he sat back, shrugging.  
  
“All right then. From what I understand you’ve tried everything to bring back Mr. Booth, I don’t know what you think I can do to help you.”  
  
“You’ve got magic. Real magic. Not the crap we’ve been slinging around. You could do something to bring him back.”  
  
Belle averted her gaze, taking Rumpelstiltskin’s hand in the process.  
  
Rumpel squeezed Belle’s hand and looked up at Emma, his expression answering Emma before his words did.  
  
“There is no magic that can bring back the dead. There are ways, yes, but it wouldn’t really be him, dearie. “  
  
“BUT HE’S NOT DEAD! He’s still in there! He’s just…stuck…transformed, he just needs the right kind of magic to come back! You just don’t want to do it!”  
  
Belle looked up at Rumpelstiltskin, pleading with her eyes for him to do anything.  
  
“Rumpel, isn’t there anything you can do?”  
  
“I’ll pay whatever the price is, I don’t care, I just want him back.”  
  
He shook his head sadly.  
  
“I’ve tried everything I could, Emma.”  
  
Emma looked at him in surprise.  
  
“You what?”  
  
“Do you really think you’re the first one to come to me? Where do you think the Blue Fairy got some of the magic she used? Master Geppetto came to me weeks ago with his little… _fairy_ friend in tow.” Rumpel spat the word ‘fairy’ and it was clear to Emma helping her had been difficult for him.  
  
“And you agreed?”  
  
“Not for unselfish reasons,” Belle accused, glaring at Rumpel.  
  
He waved her off.  
  
“I had my reasons, yes. But I have tried all I can, there is nothing to do. The boy is gone. I’m truly sorry, I am, I know how painful it can be to lose the ones you love.”  
  
He and Belle exchanged glances and Emma stared at them both for a long moment before standing abruptly, her entire body filling with an uncontrollable rage.  
  
“That’s it? You’re just going to pat me on the head and send me home with nothing? After what you pulled? Henry died because of you! If you hadn’t used that potion to bring magic back, I could have saved both of them! I slew the dragon, not you! You had no right to use it!  
  
So help me, Rumpelstiltskin, if you don’t fix this, you’ll regret it.”  
  
Rumpelstiltskin sighed as Belle glared at him and Emma took some satisfaction in knowing he’d be in the doghouse tonight.  
  
“You can consider that stunt you pulled your favor, because I should kill you for what you did.”  
  
Emma stormed out of the house, fuming. She trudged her way back to the apartment, moving with purpose. She pulled her phone out and dialed Ruby’s number.  
  
“Emma? Where are you? Everyone’s worried sick.”  
  
“I needed to take a walk, to clear my head. Can you take Henry home? And pack him a bag; I need him to stay with my parents, I just…”  
  
“It’s okay, Emma, I get it.”  
  
“Thanks, Ruby.”  
  
Emma snapped her phone shut. She knew Ruby thought Emma needed the night alone to cry, but Emma had more important things to do.  
  
Everything in her body felt sick with anticipation. Her chest felt warm, her stomach queasy, and she could taste the B.L.T. she’d had for lunch. She’d felt off ever since entering Rumpel’s basement, so it wasn’t a surprise when, as she reached the apartment, she had to hold herself against the tree while she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the lawn.  
  
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Emma leaned against the tree, cursing Rumpel and his damn potions and herbs.  
  
She entered the apartment and threw her things down, leaving August’s jacket on. She kicked off her shoes and moved into the bathroom to rinse her mouth out, wanting to get rid of the taste her vomit had left there.  
  
Emma shed her clothes, changing into a pair of sweat pants she’d ‘commandeered’ from August. She closed her eyes, imagining the way he’d looked wearing them during the nights he’d kept her company following her abduction.  
  
Hair tussled. Chest bare. Pelvis peeking out from beneath the loose waistband. She’d learned, from bursting into his room one morning, that he liked to sleep in the nude, but he’d been willing to don clothing for her comfort, though she’d been able to tell he still went without the boxers.  
  
Had it not been for August, she would have never gotten through that ordeal and the entire murder investigation. She should have realized then, how he felt, but she’d been too distracted, too jaded to see it.  
  
She slipped his jacket over her tank top and settled into her bed with Henry’s book and a notepad, determined to go over every story for something they may have missed.  
  
“Mom?”  
  
Emma had been so caught up in her task; she hadn’t heard the door open.  
  
“Hey, kid, come here.”  
  
She pulled Henry into her lap and toyed with the hair on the back of his head, thinking it was time for a haircut.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” she lied. “I’m fine, I just want some time to think about stuff and I don’t want you to have to worry about it, okay?”  
  
Henry nodded and gave her a hug and she sent him off with Ruby, giving them a small wave as they went, locking the door behind them.  
  
Her fingers traced the delicate carvings in the lock and Emma leaned against the door, resting her cheek against the cool metal. She hadn’t even had to ask August to make the lock; he’d just shown up one day, tools in tow, and a beautifully crafted lock ready to be installed.  
  
She smiled, leaning her head back against the comforting chill of the door, remembering how pleased he’d been with himself.  
  
 _“You’re impressed, aren’t you?”  
  
“Oh, I’m something,” she replied, resting her hip against the kitchen table as he worked, smirking in her direction every so often.  
  
Emma approached him slowly, leaning into the door.  
  
“So, what do I have to pay for this torture chamber lock?”  
  
August stopped mid-task and leaned down until their noses touched, grinning.  
  
“Oh, I think you paid me plenty for it last night,” he whispered, sending a chill down through her spine.  
  
Emma shifted, needing to be away from him, but he caught her around the waist and leaned down, pressing his lips against hers. Her fingers immediately went into his hair as she pressed her body against his, trying not to remember their one night together; she had Henry to think about, after all.  
  
“Hey August, you’re still-“  
  
Mary Margaret cleared her throat and Emma pulled away from August, red faced, and turned away from him quickly, but not before seeing the satisfied, smug look on his face._  
  
“Damn it, you smug bastard, I miss you,” Emma whispered, toying with the lock for another moment before returning to her earlier task.  
  
Three cups of coffee later, Emma’s eyes began to droop. She’d gotten nowhere in her quest, but she was determined not to give up. She had hours before the funeral and she refused to stop. If she couldn’t save him by the funeral…  
  
Well, she didn’t want to think about that.  
  
Emma flipped through the book once more and then set it aside. She looked through her list, crossing out things they’d already tried, before adding things to the list. The book had been a bust.  
  
Maybe it was time to accept that he really was gone?  
  
The thought of never seeing August smile again sent a lurch through her stomach and Emma barely made it to her trash bin before retching again.  
  
She wiped at her mouth and coughed, groaning in protest. She brushed her teeth and wiped her brow with a cold cloth, placing a hand over her sensitive stomach. As much as she wanted to keep working, she couldn’t deny her body rest any longer. If she kept at it, she’d kill herself from stress before morning came.  
  
Emma set her alarm for the crack of dawn, giving her a few short hours of rest, before cuddling into her pillows, trying not to cry as memories of sharing her bed with August flooded her mind.  
  
 _August splayed his hand over the fabric of her too tight shirt, slowly lifting the fabric until he exposed her flesh to the chilly air.  
  
“August,” she protested with a small whine, wanting to say cocooned in the warm sheets of their bed.  
  
He ignored her and instead pressed his lips against her rounded stomach while still running his hands over her skin.  
  
“Don’t listen to mommy; she’s just grumpy in the morning. Yes she is. I hope you don’t inherit that, I don’t think I could handle the two of you yelling at me every morning.” He kissed her belly again before murmuring unintelligible things to their unborn child.  
  
Emma shook her head and leaned back to watch him, slipping her fingers through his hair, smiling as she did so.  
_  
The alarm blared through her ears, pulling her out of her dream. Emma groaned, stretching as she opened her eyes, blinking away the sleep in her eyes. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and ran her hands over her face, willing herself to wake up.  
  
Three hours and five cups of coffee later, Emma stood in the shower, still lacking a real plan. She lowered her head and let the hot water shower over the back of her neck, wanting to release the tension that had settled in her muscles due to the stress she’d been inflicting upon herself.  
  
Dressed in her funeral outfit, Emma parked the bug, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel as she tried to think of what she’d say. Deciding she was okay with not knowing what in the Hell she was doing, as long as it was something to try and get August back, Emma emerged from the car, and walked towards the entrance of the convent.  
  
The air seemed too quiet to Emma, the only sound she could hear was the sound of her heels crunching on the pavement. As she approached, Blue emerged from the building, as if she’d been expecting to see Emma.  
  
“Your Majesty,” she gave Emma a small nod of recognition and Emma had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. She would never get used to this Princess thing.  
  
“Blue, do you have a minute?”  
  
“Of course, there’s an hour still until Astrid and I plan to meet Geppetto.”  
  
Emma leaned against the railing and let out a small sigh. They both knew why she was here, so there was no use in stringing it along.  
  
“Have we really tried everything?”  
  
Emma could feel the pathetic gaze she sent over the head fairy’s way, but she didn’t care.  
  
Blue sent Emma a sympathetic smile before nodding.  
  
“I wish there was something, anything, we could do, Your Majesty, truly. I used great magic to bring him to life and then to make him a real boy and I wanted nothing more than to see him live a long, happy life, but…Regina brought us here to take away our happy endings and I suppose she succeeded in many ways.”  
  
Emma let out a shaky breath, not wanting to cry, not today.  
  
“I should have done more; I should have listened to him. I know he blamed himself, but-”  
  
“He didn’t make the decision to come here, Geppetto and I made it for him. He didn’t turn back into a puppet because he left you, Emma. Yes, it was a poor decision, but he was too young to be put in such a situation and I should have never let it happen.  
  
He turned back because the only magic in this land was tied to the curse and when you came to town, you began to weaken it, taking the magic holding it together away. If the two of you had stayed together, it would have started when you came to break the curse. It was inevitable.”  
  
Emma felt the air leave her.  
  
“It really is my fault, then.”  
  
“No, don’t. It’s all Regina’s fault. All of this. The two of you should have grown up back on our land, but she destroyed everyone’s lives. Don’t blame yourself, Your Majesty. You saved us all.”  
  
Emma blinked away tears.  
  
“No, I didn’t.”  
  
She hadn’t saved Graham and she hadn’t saved August.  
  
She’d failed.  
  
“Your Majesty, are you okay? You don’t look very well.”  
  
Emma covered her mouth, trying to fight off a wave of nausea. She choked it back and shook her head.  
  
“I’m…thank you; I need to get ready for the…thing.”  
  
She made it half a mile back into town before pulling over to expel the coffee she’d had this morning. When she finished heaving up her breakfast, Emma leaned against the steering wheel, taking a few deep breaths.  
  
What in the Hell was wrong with her? She’d never reacted to stress this way before. Hell, she never even got sick like this. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d thrown up without the aid of a lot of alcohol.  
  
Hell, she hadn’t puked while sober since…  
  
Emma sat up, gripping the steering wheel as she stared ahead at the road, trying to remember the last time she’d gotten a period. When she couldn’t remember, she racked her mind, trying to think how in the Hell this could have happened.  
  
 _“Goddammit, I’m coming!”  
  
Emma had nearly been asleep when the pounding at the door started. Halfway down the stairs, she sent Mary Margaret back to bed, happy to chew out whoever was here at this hour. She flung open the door, annoyed.  
  
“August, what are you-“  
  
He quickly closed the space between them, his lips finding hers desperately as his fingers moved into her hair.  
  
“What the Hell, August?”  
  
Emma pushed him off of her but he kissed her again, slowly backing her up against the door, shutting it in the process. She tried to break the kiss, but she found herself kissing him back and pulling him towards her bedroom.  
  
“What are we doing?” She asked as she pulled him towards her bed. “And have you been drinkin-“  
  
August killed her again and Emma decided it didn’t matter what had brought him to her so desperately. She’d spent months fighting her attraction to him and she was more than willing to fully indulge in a moment of weakness.  
  
As desperate as his kisses were, his love making hadn’t been. He’d taken his time while whispering all of the things he felt for her in her ears, bringing her to tears.  
  
Afterwards, she lay in his arms, eyes closed, with her head resting against his chest. August held her tightly, his lips pressed into her hair. After an hour of lying together, when he must have assumed she was asleep, August finally spoke.  
  
“I love you, Emma.”_  
  
She’d pretended to be asleep, unable to deal with his admission, and now she would spend her life regretting it.  
  
Emma replayed that night in her head over and over and she cursed when she realized they’d been so caught up in one another, they hadn’t even bothered to use a condom. She buried her face in her hands, trying not to freak herself out.  
  
She couldn’t be pregnant, it was crazy. She was on the pill and they’d only had sex the one time.  
  
 _You only had sex with Henry’s father once too._  
  
With a shaky hand, Emma pulled her seatbelt back on and started the bug. She didn’t have time to deal with this right now, she had to go finally say goodbye to August while trying to keep it together for her kid.  
  
“Emma, are you sure you’re okay?” Ruby whispered.  
  
A distracted Emma, turned to where Ruby leaned into her from her seat in the row behind hers and nodded, turning her attention back to Geppetto, who was giving a tearful speech about his son. Emma squeezed Henry’s hand and wrapped her arm around him as he leaned into her.  
  
She felt someone take her hand and she glanced over to her father who was watching her with a sad look on his face. Emma gave him the best smile she could muster and he returned his attentions to a crying Snow.  
  
Emma kissed the top of Henry’s head and stared ahead, pretending to pay attention.  
  
Her mind reeled as she tried to decide whether or not she could be pregnant.  
  
Did she even want another kid?  
  
Sure, she supposed she could handle it, now. And Henry would be happy. She glanced down at him, wondering if it would be so bad to get to do the mom thing the right way. She loved Henry so much and it seemed impossible that she could love someone else just as much, but the more she thought about it, the more the idea seemed less frightening and more desirable.  
  
“Mom?”  
  
Emma pulled herself out of her own head and looked for Henry, finding him standing in front of her and most of the funeral guests gone.  
  
“Hey, kid, come on, your grandma and I need your help taking some food over to Geppetto’s, okay?”  
  
Henry stood, still staring at Emma, but Charming led him away and Emma glanced to her right to find Ruby sitting with her.  
  
“I’m sorry, I spaced out, I guess.”  
  
“Spaced out? You looked like…it was scary, Emma, you spent the entire service just sitting there and then when it was over…” Ruby sighed.  
  
“You’re not okay.”  
  
“I’m fine,” Emma whispered, looking towards the Mausoleum.  
  
Ruby followed Emma’s gaze and took her hand, helping her up.  
  
“Come on, everyone’s gone, you can say goodbye.”  
  
“I don’t think I can,” Emma muttered.  
  
“Yes, you can. And if you don’t take a minute to cry, you’re not going to make it through the rest of the day.”  
  
Ruby stood outside as Emma entered the place the dwarves had built to be August’s resting place. She placed her hand on the glass coffin, staring down at him. It didn’t take her long to be reduced to a weeping mess. She couldn’t even find the words to say goodbye to him, she just cried until she couldn’t cry anymore, and when her dry sobbing became too much, Ruby helped her back to her feet, holding her until she calmed herself enough to be driven to Geppetto’s, where she spoke to no one, she just held Henry’s hand, averting her gaze so no one could see how red and puffy her eyes were.  
  
“Are you sure you don’t want him to stay with us, just for a few days?”  
  
Emma sat with her knees pressed against her chest and shook her head.  
  
“No, I’m his mother and I don’t want to be separated from my kids ever again,” Emma muttered, glancing up towards the loft from her spot on the couch.  
  
“Emma?”  
  
Emma pulled her eyes away from where she knew Henry lay sleeping and focused on her mother.  
  
“Mom?”  
  
“Is there something you want to tell me?”  
  
Emma blinked at her, confused.  
  
“You just said ‘kids’. It’s very hard to keep a secret in this apartment, I know you and August-“  
  
Emma held her hand up, shaking her head.  
  
“I um…” She sighed. “No, I mean…maybe. Crap. I don’t know, mom, I’m going to wait to take the damn test before I freak out about it or whatever.”  
  
Snow reached out to stroke Emma’s hair.  
  
“That’s probably best; I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”  
  
“About a baby I probably won’t know how to take care of?”  
  
“No, about having August’s baby. I would hate to see you in even more pain than you’re in right now.”  
  
Emma opened her mouth to speak but her fathered emerged from the overhead.  
  
“He’s asleep. Now, Emma, if either of you need anything or if you change your mind about moving in-“  
  
“Dad.”  
  
Emma gave him her ‘no’ face and he sighed, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.  
  
“Can you blame me for wanting more time with the both of you?”  
  
“No, if I could, I’d spend every minute with Henry.”  
  
Charming kissed her again and grabbed his jacket.  
  
“Come on, Snow, I’m sure Emma’s exhausted.”  
  
Snow took Emma’s hand and sent her a pleading look.  
  
“I’m fine, go.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
Emma nodded.  
  
“I’ll call you tomorrow. And we’ll…you know.”  
  
It seemed weird to think she’d need her mother with her to take a pregnancy test, but at one point she’d also been Emma’s best friend and sometimes it was nice to know she could have her be both.  
  
Wrapping her quilt around her shoulders, Emma saw her parents to the door, locking it behind them.  
  
She stared at August’s lock, realizing that aside from the jacket and the few odd things of his still lying around the apartment, she really had nothing left of him.  
  
Well, unless…  
  
She placed her hand on her flat stomach, wondering if maybe she’d soon have something else of his to hold on to.  
  
It hit her then, that if they did have a child, a part of him would still be alive, in their child.  
  
A small sob escaped her and she pushed the thought away from her mind. Getting attached to the idea and then having it not come to fruition would be too heartbreaking for her to put herself through.  
  
Emma flipped on the television, tuning it onto some crappy cooking show and huddled under a few blankets on the sofa. She knew she should sleep, she had had a long day and she was exhausted, but she wanted to stay up, just in case Henry needed her.  
  
Plus, all her bed did was make her think about August and she was trying not to think about him or babies or anything but making sure Henry was okay. She hadn’t been the only one to cry today and she’d been far too distracted to be there for Henry today and she was determined to make up for it by making sure he got through this with her help.  
  
Emma began to nod off when she heard footsteps on the old metal staircase. She sat up, finding Henry lingering at the foot of the stairs, unsure of himself.  
  
“Bad dreams?”  
  
Henry nodded and Emma pulled back her quilt. Henry joined her on the sofa and Emma pulled him against her, throwing the quilt over them. Emma kissed his temple and changed the channel to something they could both watch.  
  
“Want to talk about it?”  
  
Henry shook his head and Emma smiled before giving him a squeeze. He was her kid all right. Stubbornness seemed to run in their family.  
  
 _Family_.  
  
“Hey kid?” Emma whispered, resting her chin on the top of his head.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“If…If I ever…Would you…” Emma sighed. “If you ever had a brother or sister, would you resent me for it?”  
  
It was a fear she knew she shared with her own parents. She wasn’t sure how she would feel; watching them raise another child when she’d grown up without them, and she knew Henry would probably struggle with those same feelings.  
  
“No, I know…I know you wish we’d been together and it would nice to have a big family,” he said quietly, as if he feared hurting her feelings with the reminder that she’d given him away. “Why?” Henry pulled away from her and looked up at her, his face hopeful.  
  
Damn it, he was too smart for her own good.  
  
“Nothing, I just…” Emma sighed and looked down at him with a small smile. “You’re a great kid and sometimes I think it would cool to have two of you,” she teased.  
  
Henry smiled.  
  
“I am pretty cool, huh?”  
  
“Yeah, you are.”  
  
He smile faded into a frown.  
  
“I’m never going to be a big brother, am I?”  
  
Emma’s heart clenched and she tried not to let her pain show.  
  
“Why would you say that?”  
  
“Because you loved August and…everyone else has their True Love.”  
  
Emma wasn’t sure about love or even ‘true’ love, but she got what he was saying, there was no one left for her to be with, even if she could bring herself to be with someone. But Henry wasn’t done.  
  
“He was your True Love, mom. If the curse hadn’t happened, you would have grown up together and-“  
  
Emma cut him off.  
  
“If there hadn’t been a curse, I wouldn’t have you. I love you Henry and…you’re my True Love, okay? I don’t need someone to take August’s place and I don’t need a great romance, you’re the only thing I need, okay kid? You broke the curse and you’re the only man I need in my life. And someday, you’ll leave me for some adorable girl or boy and have your own family and I’ll be okay with lots of grandkids. Or none. Whatever you want, kid. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”  
  
Henry wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against her middle.  
  
“I love you too, mom.”  
  
“You’d better because you’re stuck with me. I keep killing boyfriends, so no one would have me even if they were available,” she teased.  
  
“That’s true. And mom…it’s okay to be sad. I know you’d be happier if August was here.”  
  
“Kid…”  
  
Emma shook her head and held Henry until they both fell asleep.  
  
She dreamt again that night, this time of Henry chasing after his little sister, a miniature version of his mother. She did her best to not get attached to the idea of being pregnant, but by the time her mother arrived with her father for dinner, the idea had completely taken root in her brain and heart.  
  
Emma wanted another chance to be a mother and to do it right, while giving Henry the family he deserved. And she wanted to have a piece of August with her. And Geppetto…she wanted nothing more than erase the pain he now lived with every single day. How happy would he be to have a grandchild? Not to mention, she knew her parents wanted nothing more than to make up for everything they missed out on with her.  
  
Snow tried to keep Emma from getting her hopes up, but it was too late, the hope had taken root and it wasn’t going anywhere. Emma was either in for another broken heart or for her own version of a happy ending.  
  
“Emma, it was only one time,” Snow muttered as they watched Henry and Charming play with fake swords in the backyard.  
  
“Well, I was only with Henry’s father once and look how that turned out. Sometimes once is all it takes.”  
  
Snow sighed.  
  
“Then just…let’s go see Whale or get you a test and get this over with. It’s been three days and the longer you wait, the more it’s going to hurt if you’re not pregnant.”  
  
Emma said nothing. She knew her mother was right, but a small part of her didn’t want to have this tiny glimmer of hope taken away. It was the only think keeping her together for Henry. She’d done her best to avoid grieving August and she knew once she started, it would be months before she stopped and Henry didn’t need to see her go through that, not when he was going through it himself.  
  
Snow seemed to read Emma’s mind and stood.  
  
“Emma…you need to know for sure. And if you don’t do it by tomorrow, I’m telling your father, and do you really want to have the awkward sex talk with him?”  
  
Damn, woman was cold.  
  
Emma pouted and followed her mother into the house.  
  
“That’s a Regina move, mom.”  
  
“I know,” Snow told her smugly, handing a box over to Emma.  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
Emma held up the pregnancy test, annoyed.  
  
“Oh Emma, I know you too well, did you really think I’d wait for you to do it yourself? Now get in that bathroom and if you don’t come out with results in five minutes, I’m telling your father you let Pinocchio defile you.”  
  
Emma made a face.  
  
“When you put it like that it sounds wrong and dirty. Fine. Just…keep Henry away, will you? I don’t want him to know anything unless there’s something to know.”  
  
Snow nodded and Emma locked herself in the bathroom, huffing as she did so. She leaned against the door and stared down at the test shaking in her hand. She could do this. If it was negative she’d just…focus on Henry. No matter what happened, she’d still have Henry, so…  
  
“I don’t hear any peeing going on!”  
  
Emma jumped, bringing her hand to her chest.  
  
“Damn it, mom! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”  
  
“Emma!”  
  
“I can’t do it with you listening!”  
  
“Fine, I’ll be in the kitchen.”  
  
Emma emerged a few minutes later and checked to make sure Henry was still occupied outside before handing the test over to her mother. She couldn’t look and since her mother was so invested in this, she could wait for the damn results.  
  
She took a seat at the counter and closed her eyes, repeating to herself that Henry was what mattered while Snow set the kitchen time to three minutes.  
  
A ding filled the kitchen and Emma took a few small breaths. A quiet gasp from her mother sent a thrill rushing through her body, but when she opened her eyes, that thrill turned to dread.  
  
“I’m sorry, Emma,” Snow whispered, confirming what her face had already told Emma.  
  
Emma’s heart fell to her stomach and an ugly sob escaped her chest. Snow wrapped her arms around Emma as she convulsed into a fit of tears.


	5. Depression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reality of her situation finally hits her and Emma lets herself feel everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who’s been reviewing this, you’re all lovely, and to my wife, for all of the late night readings of this thing that I put her through. And I think I’ve also created ‘Henry’s Book Feels’. I need to stop coming up with new feels. Sorry guys.

_When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we've done everything we can._  
  
Emma trudged into the kitchen, pulling one of August’s oversized sweaters on over her tank top, glad she’d opted to put socks on before braving the cold of the apartment.  
  
“Why is it always freezing in this damn loft?” Emma muttered to herself, going straight for the coffee pot. Across the counter, Snow slowly lowered her mug, setting it down carefully, eyeing Emma warily as she did so.  
  
“You’re awake.”  
  
Emma glanced up from stirring cream into her coffee and lifted an eyebrow.  
  
“You seem shocked.”  
  
She rested her lower back against the counter and let the warmth of the mug warm her cold fingers before taking a long sip of her coffee, praising the gods of caffeine for their gift. Though, she supposed Ruby and her mother were really the ones to thank.  
  
“What are you two doing here? And where’s Henry? It’s Saturday, we make pancakes on Saturday.”  
  
Hell, her breakfast date with Henry was the only reason she woke up early on Saturdays.  
  
“Your father and I brought breakfast from Granny’s, there’s some for you in the microwave. And…”  
  
Snow cleared her throat and toyed with the handle of her mug, unsure of what else to say.  
  
“Henry’s at the station playing Deputy with your dad,” Ruby butted in, putting on the smile she reserved for when she was up to something.  
  
“Okay, what are the two of you up to?”  
  
Emma reached into the microwave for her plate, immediately going for the bacon.  
  
 _“What is this?”  
  
Emma sat up as August placed a tray on her lap. Her fingers immediately reached for the bacon, her favorite breakfast food, and she nibbled on the end, watching him curiously.  
  
“Breakfast.”  
  
Emma rolled her eyes.  
  
“I know its breakfast, I just…”  
  
“This is what people do, Emma.”  
  
“They eat breakfast?”  
  
August smirked and leaned over, kissing her nose.  
  
“They eat breakfast.”  
  
Emma wrinkled her nose and turned away from him, trying not to stare at his bare chest.  
  
“So, do you do this for all of the women you seduce in the middle of night or just me?”  
  
He kissed her shoulder before wrapping his arms around her middle.  
  
“Just you, Ems.”  
_  
“Emma?”  
  
Ruby’s voice broke through Emma’s trip down memory lane and Emma pushed away from the counter while mentally cursing herself for being unable to even enjoy a piece of bacon without thinking about August.  
  
“You didn’t answer my question.”  
  
She’d stopped paying attention, sure, but she knew them well enough to know they’d averted the issue.  
  
“We thought you’d need some time to-“  
  
Ruby glanced towards Snow who took over.  
  
“After what happened yesterday-“  
  
Emma held up a hand to silence her mother.  
  
“I’m fine. Henry is…I told you I’d be okay with it either way and really, he’s all I can handle and he’s all I need, so you two don’t need to hover around me, I’m not going to break. I’m-“  
  
“Fine, we got it,” Ruby said skeptically.  
  
Snow glared at Ruby for a moment before setting her ‘motherly’ gaze on Emma.  
  
“Sweetheart, yesterday you-“  
  
“I’m _fine_ ,” Emma repeated, annoyed. “I wasn’t fine yesterday, I was really upset and in pain, but I cried it out with you and now I’m going to be fine. Henry deserves better than a mother who’s in mourning all the time and I am going to keep it together; for him. You don’t need to worry about me; Henry and I are going to be okay.”  
  
Emma stared into her mug before lifting her gaze to her mother.  
  
“I really need a shower, can you call dad and tell him I’m going to pick Henry up. I just want to spend the day with him.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Emma gathered a change of clothes before locking herself in the bathroom. She leaned against the door for a moment before grasping the edge of the sink, taking deep breaths as she stared at her reflection.  
  
The truth was written all over her face; she wasn’t fine.  
  
After her breakdown with her mother, she’d spent the night sobbing into her pillow. Miraculously, she’d managed to keep Henry from witnessing any of it and she was determined to keep it that way.  
  
Tears stung at her cheeks and she left them there.  
  
All she wanted to do was cry. Cry for August. For Henry. For the second child she’d so desperately wanted and would never have. For the family she should have been able to give Henry. For everything.  
  
But she wouldn’t cry, unless she was alone.  
  
Henry was the only thing that mattered and she refused to put him through watching her fall apart again. He was the only kid she’d ever have and she’d made enough mistakes with him, it was time to start repairing them all.  
  
Emma stepped into the shower and let the sound of the shower muffle her sobbing.  
  
A week later, Emma sat on the edge of Henry’s bed, with his book sprawled open in her lap. Tousling his hair, she gave him a small smirk.  
  
“What’ll it be tonight, kid? I think we’ve been through every story in this book, so what do you want to hear again?”  
  
Since his ‘death’ Henry had been suffering from nightmares. He refused to talk about them with anyone but Archie, so Emma did the best she could with him, eventually figuring out that when she read to him at bedtime and stayed with him until he fell asleep, the nightmares stayed away.  
  
Most nights she didn’t bother to go to her own bed, choosing to stay with Henry in case the nightmares returned.  
  
Henry gave her one of his telling looks and Emma furrowed her brows.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
“Well…it’s just…you missed one and…I mean…nothing.”  
  
Emma flipped through the book, confused.  
  
“Henry, I don-“  
  
Emma stopped on a page that was newer than the others, running her fingers over the image. So, there was one she’d missed.  
  
“Right. Well-“  
  
“You don’t have to read it,” Henry whispered.  
  
Emma leaned over and kissed his forehead, giving him a determined look.  
  
“No, we’ll read it. It was my favorite movie growing up, you know?”  
  
Henry smiled.  
  
“Can I tell you a secret?”  
  
Emma smiled back.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“It was mine too.”  
  
Emma chuckled.  
  
“Well then, we won’t tell your grandmother, then. She still thinks yours is ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarves’.”  
  
Henry smirked, reminding her of the real Pinocchio.  
  
“That’s because I lied.”  
  
Emma playfully bopped him on the nose.  
  
“Well, it’s a good thing your nose can’t grow, then. So, let’s see how good August’s writings skills ar-were,” she corrected, keeping a straight face.  
  
Emma read Henry the story, impressed with the way August had been able to skillfully craft words. Not that she was surprised, his little speech from their first real conversation in the diner still stood out to her. When she reached the unfinished ending she paused, unsure of how to end the story for Henry.  
  
“And then Pinocchio came through the wardrobe with Princess Emma and they lived…”  
  
Henry frowned, realizing his mistake.  
  
“And they lived.” Emma finished, closing the book before setting it on his nightstand. She lay next to Henry, letting him settle into her arms before she kissed his temple.  
  
“He loved you too, you know.”  
  
Henry nodded and hugged Emma tighter.  
  
“You should sleep; you promised your grandmother you’d bake cookies with her in the morning.”  
  
Henry made a face.  
  
“But I want to sleep in.”  
  
Emma shrugged.  
  
“Sorry kid.”  
  
“Do you get to sleep in?”  
  
“No, because I will have to drag you out of bed.”  
  
Henry groaned.  
  
“Now sleep,” Emma commanded, flicking off his lamp.  
  
As soon as Henry fell asleep, Emma tucked him in properly and kissed the top of his head, turning on his night light just in case he woke in the middle of the night. Careful not to make any noise, Emma made her way downstairs.  
  
Once in her ‘room’, she pulled back the curtains, giving herself as much privacy as could be afforded and changed into her new go-to sleepwear: August’s sweatpants, one of her tank tops, and his sweater. With a shaky hand she pulled back her covers and slipped into bed.  
  
She lay curled up on her side, hugging her knees to her chest as she began to silently cry.  
  
She’d been very good about not crying when Henry was in the apartment, but after reading August’s story, she couldn’t help herself.  
  
After a few minutes, Emma wiped at her eyes, trying to calm herself. She just wanted to sleep, but she knew it wouldn’t come, and if it did, she would dream vividly of August and wake feeling exhausted. She wasn’t proud of herself, but she knew it was the only way she would sleep.  
  
Checking to make sure Henry hadn’t gotten up; Emma reached into the bottom drawer of her nightstand, removing the bottle of whiskey that she kept hidden there. She hated drinking with Henry in the house, but she couldn’t keep herself awake for days at a time either.  
  
Hands shaking, Emma uncapped the bottle and took a long drink, not bothering to get a glass. Shaking off the sting from the swig, she closed the bottle and hid it away again. Flicking off the lamp, she hugged her pillow, trying to think about nothing, so she could fall asleep and keep the dreams away. Toying with August’s black bracelet that she still wore every day, she slowly drifted off to sleep.  
  
A loud boom resonated through the small room and Emma looked up from her desk, sniffling.  
  
“I’m busy,” she called, having locked the door to her office for a reason.  
  
“Emma, let me in!”  
  
She rolled her eyes, grabbing for the box of tissues she kept hidden in her desk when the door flung open and an angry Charming stormed in, slamming the door closed once more.  
  
“Dammit, dad! You don’t know what a locked door is for? How did you get in any-“  
  
“Look at yourself, Emma! What are you even-“  
  
“Hey! I’m the Sheriff, you can’t just come in here, yell-“  
  
“You’re a mess!”  
  
“I’m fin-“  
  
“Fine?” Charming finished. “You’re locked in here crying and it’s not the first time. You’re barely keeping it together Emma, you need help. You need-“  
  
“See Archie? No, thank you.”  
  
This wasn’t their first fight over the issue and it wouldn’t be the last. Emma turned away from him and wiped her eyes before clearing her throat. When she turned to face her father again, he was sitting on the edge of her desk, looking less angry and more…  
  
Fatherly?  
  
“Emma, sweetie, I worry about you. I know you’re trying really hard for Henry, but it’s my job to worry about you. You’re not okay. You’re exhausted all the time, I’ve caught you crying in your office or car at least three times just this week, and pretty soon Henry’s going to catch on. You need to talk to someone about it and since you refuse to talk to me or your mother about it-“  
  
“I’m not going to talk to Archie, I think psychiatry is a crock of shi-“  
  
“Well you need to talk to someone.”  
  
Emma shook her head and stood, grabbing her keys and badge.  
  
“I have a meeting with the new Mayor, I’ll see you later.”  
  
Emma shoved past her father before he could protest.  
  
Charming hadn’t been wrong. The shell Emma had kept around herself to protect Henry slowly began to crack, until she was a constant mess. She kept herself composed around Henry, but while he was at school, Emma spent her days crying her eyes out.  
  
She didn’t even bother hiding it from her parents, either. She handed over most of her Sheriff duties to her father, locking herself away in her office doing paperwork most days, unable to handle much else.  
  
She’d even agreed to see Archie, but they never spoke. She spent her sessions either sobbing or sitting in dead silence.  
  
But when Henry was around, she lit up and behaved like a normal human being.  
  
“This isn’t healthy, Emma,” Snow scolded one day during breakfast while Henry was in the bathroom.  
  
Emma just ignored her.  
  
“Hi grandma! Grandpa!”  
  
Emma looked up from her pancakes, trying not to roll her eyes. She really needed to talk to her parents about knocking. She was in no mood for whatever shit intervention they had planned today.  
  
“Hey kiddo,” Charming said, hugging Henry.  
  
“Your father’s going to take Henry to see Geppetto,” Snow said in her ‘Queenly’ voice.  
  
“Is that so? Well, seeing as he’s my son-“  
  
“Goodbye, Charming.”  
  
Charming and Henry exchanged ‘oh shit’ looks before hurrying out of the apartment.  
  
Emma slammed her fork down, annoyed.  
  
“Excuse me, he’s my son, you don’t just get to waltz in here and take him whenever you feel like it. Who do you think you are, Regina?”  
  
“ENOUGH!”  
  
Snow tossed her coat down, glaring at Emma.  
  
“I’ve tried to be patient with you, Emma, I really have, but I cannot deal with this anymore. I am so sick of your crap. I ignored the thing with Graham because I didn’t know you were my daughter then and I understand that admitting you had feelings for him was a big deal for you but I really don’t understand why you’re still a mess over some guy you had sex with once.  
  
‘One night is as far as I ever go,’ remember?  
  
It’s not like, if he was still alive, you’d be with him, so I really am trying to understand what in the Hell is wrong with you.  
  
You’re a fool, Emma.  
  
You ran around for weeks trying to save him and for what? So you could cast him off like you do every man who tries to love you? And my God! You actually thought True Love’s Kiss was going to work?  
  
You’re a delusional child who doesn’t understand love, Emma. So grow up and stop with whatever this is you’re going through because none of us can take it anymore.”  
  
Emma wouldn’t have felt more stung if her mother had just slapped her across the face.  
  
“You have no right to just come in here-“ Emma started and soon they were both in each other’s faces, yelling.  
  
“I stood by you when no one else would-“  
  
“Like I didn’t do the same-“  
  
“YOU HAD SEX WITH A MARRIED MAN AND I STILL-“  
  
“HE WAS YOUR FATHER!”  
  
“BUT YOU DIDN’T-“  
  
And they kept going Snow until finally got in Emma’s face.  
  
“Why did you think kissing him would work, Emma!”  
  
“BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!” Emma yelled back, her face red and covered in tears, with more still unshed.  
  
Snow’s face went neutral very quickly and she let out a small sigh.  
  
“Well, I’m glad you’re finally able to say it out loud.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Snow took Emma hands and helped her back into her chair.  
  
“You’ve never said it.”  
  
“Of course I have,” Emma whispered, racking her brain. But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t remember it, but surely she had to have said it at some point?  
  
“No, you always avoid the subject. I’m guessing because thinking about it was too painful,” Snow whispered, wiping tears off of Emma’s face.  
  
Emma sat, dumbfounded, before a small sob escaped her.  
  
“I never told-“  
  
She covered her mouth and leaned into her mother, surprised she had more tears to cry.  
  
August had never known how she felt because she hadn’t even been able to admit it to herself.  
  
 _God, you’re so stupid, Emma_.  
  
Emma woke hours later, still in the same clothes she’d been in when she’d collapsed against her mother, too exhausted from crying to stay awake. A warm body was pressed against her and she looked down to find Henry watching her.  
  
Emma closed her eyes.  
  
 _Great_.  
  
“Mom, are you okay?”  
  
Emma opened her eyes and stared down at Henry’s innocent face.  
  
“No, I’m not. I really miss August,” she whispered, finding herself unable to lie to him anymore.  
  
“Me too.”  
  
“I know, kid, come here.”  
  
Emma hugged Henry tightly, burying her face in his hair, not fighting the fresh wave of tears that came to her. She kissed the top of his head and stared across the room at August’s jacket hanging off of a chair.  
  
“I love you.”


	6. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma comes to terms with August being gone and is finally ready to say goodbye.

_When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we've done everything we can. We let go. We let go and move into acceptance._  
  
The next week sped by in a blur. After Snow’s tough love session, things had been better. Emma smiled more, cried less, and there was a relative calm in the air of the station.  
  
“I need you to make sure we run an extra patrol around the town border tonight, you know how people get around the Full Moon, Ruby will be here around dusk, Billy’s offered to stay with her this month, so lock up, but leave him a key.” Emma slipped on her jacket, trying to remember if she’d forgotten anything.  
  
“I’ve got it, Emma, go.”  
  
Emma gave her dad a ‘look’ before letting him kiss the top of her head.  
  
“And remember, don’t let Henry-“  
  
“Emma, your mother and I know how to take care of a child. Go.”  
  
Emma shook her head and waved to the other deputies before walking out to her bug, heading off to her date.  
  
When she arrived, she raised her hand to knock but the door swung open before her fist could make contact. She gave the man a warm smile.  
  
“I’m not late, am I?”  
  
“Of course not, Your Majesty, come in, come in, it’s chilly out.”  
  
Emma stepped into Geppetto’s house and held up a small box from Granny’s.  
  
“Granny sent this for you, you know, I think she likes you,” Emma teased, knowing that the raspberry cheesecake was both Geppetto and August’s favorite.  
  
Geppetto shook his head and led Emma into the small dining room. She caught a pink tinge to his cheeks and made a mental note to speak to Ruby about getting those two together. It was the least Emma could do for her surrogate grandmother and for Geppetto.  
  
After the grief she put everyone through, especially him, Emma thought the least she could do was to spend time with the old man; August would have appreciated it. And Henry adored Geppetto, who treated him like he was his own grandson, so even without August there to unite them, they’d all somehow become a family.  
  
“Where is Henry? I made his favorite.”  
  
“He’s with my mom, but he’ll be here tomorrow. He’s really excited to learn…stuff.” Emma wasn’t really sure what the Hell they were going to be building and she didn’t really care. She was sure whatever her father, Henry, and Geppetto got up to was nothing she’d be interested in until they were done with it.  
  
“I actually wanted to talk to you alone.”  
  
Geppetto sent her a hopeful glance and Emma tried not to feel guilty. She didn’t have any life changing news for him; she just had a favor to ask him.  
  
“I um…I want to see him. And don’t worry, I’m not-“ Emma sighed. “I just want to see him.”  
  
Because of Regina, they’d kept his resting place locked, along with placing some enchantments on it. The only person Emma trusted with the key was Geppetto, of course, and now that she’d found peace with had happened, she wanted to say goodbye to him properly, the way she had with Graham.  
  
Geppetto didn’t question her reasons, he just handed over the keys, and they continued on with their meal while Emma caught him up on everything Henry had been involved with at school.  
  
She had come to terms with his death and accepting that she had loved him had paved the way for that. Emma was so damaged and so unused to love that she didn’t know how to deal with it when it stared her blindly in the face. Henry had fixed her, but not in time for it to matter with August.  
  
But she wouldn’t dwell on that. She had Henry, her parents, far more than she ever thought she’d have in life, and she could live with having nothing else.  
  
Emma approached the mausoleum carefully, admiring the structure. The dwarves had done well, being sure to carve windows to let in the light, but making them small enough to no one could enter through them.  
  
She didn’t bother bringing a flashlight; the light from the moon provided enough illumination for her to unlock the door. She pushed open the heavy door, letting the moonlight spill in, until she could see August’s perfectly preserved form.  
  
Emma studied his form for a long moment before approaching the glass coffin carefully. She didn’t know what she wanted to say, but it was nice to be able to see him without having an uncontrollable urge to sob or find some crazy way to save him.  
  
“Hey,” she finally whispered, deciding to just keep it simple.  
  
“So…it’s been brought to my attention that I’m a moron. I don’t know how to deal with love very well, but in my defense, it’s not like I had anyone to teach me, though, I suppose neither did you and you did it far better than I’ll ever be able to do it.  
  
I know you loved me and I should have said something before it was too late, but I was scared, and then…”  
  
Emma sighed.  
  
“Well, none of that matters anymore, does it?  
  
I love you and I am sorry it took me so long to realize that,” she whispered, placing her hand on the glass.  
  
The moment her hand made contact, her magic rushed through her, popping the lid open.  
  
Emma stumbled back in surprise, hitting a stone column.  
  
Crying out in pain, Emma cursed her unreliable magic, and approached August to make sure it hadn’t done any damage to him or his coffin. When she was satisfied everything was fine, she reached for the lid, hoping she remembered how to lock the damn thing when a sudden urge came over her.  
  
She wasn’t sure what compelled her to do it, maybe it was because the damn thing was already open, or some magical force, but Emma leaned down and brushed her lips over his one final time.  
  
“I love you,” she repeated and closed her eyes, leaning against the stone slab as she silently said goodbye to him for the last time. She smiled when she heard his cheeky voice in her head telling her ‘About time, Princess’.  
  
Familiar arms wrapped around her from behind and Emma leaned into them, grateful that she didn’t have to walk out of here alone.


	7. Starting Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma prepares to move forward with her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say; Damn this show. There was a time when I would have ended this all dark and twisty and anyone who’s ever read my Harry Potter stories knows this, but this show has RUINED me. Now I write fluffy and hopeful happy endings. Anyways, I hope this makes up for the pain I’ve put you all through. As always, mad props to the wife.

_It starts all over again._  
  
Emma remained silent for a moment, allowing her father to hold her. Confident that she could stand on her own, she opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.  
  
“Well, it took you long enough.”  
  
Emma’s eyes flew open as she realized that the voice she’d heard earlier hadn’t been in her mind. She reached down and took his hands in hers, registering that while the arms around her were familiar, they didn’t belong to whom she’d first assumed.  
  
The moment her mind wrapped around what was going on, she spun around quickly, nearly sending herself careening to the floor, but his arms held her upright.  
  
She immediately brought her fingers up to his face, hesitantly touching his cheeks before trailing them over his forehead, nose, and then chin. As soon as she felt reassured that he was real and he wasn’t going to fade away from her, she let out a breath she hadn’t even been aware she’d been holding.  
  
“I _knew_ it!”  
  
Emma threw her arms around his neck while laughing in relief.  
  
“Really? Because I have to tell you, the glass coffin is really making me doubt that.”  
  
She pulled away to swat at his arm.  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
“Are you crying?”  
  
He reached up to wipe away a stray tear and Emma shook her head.  
  
“No.”  
  
He pulled her against his chest, smirking.  
  
“You missed me,” he whispered, bringing her face towards his as Emma fought to break away from him, not wanting him to see her like this.  
  
“I did no-“  
  
His lips covered hers and Emma sighed into his mouth, bringing her fingers up to clutch his shirt as she returned the kiss. He moved one hand into her hair, deepening their kiss, while keeping one arm firmly against her lower back.  
  
When the need for air became too great, Emma reluctantly broke away from him and rested her forehead against his.  
  
“August…”  
  
“Princess.”  
  
“How…”  
  
She didn’t even have the words, so she yanked him by his shirt and brought his lips back to hers with fervor. Emma ran her hands down his chest before backing him up against a column slowly, until his body was pressed flush against it.  
  
Her fingers went for his belt buckle but August grabbed her hands and pushed her off of him.  
  
“Ems,” he whispered, staring down at her and shaking his head. “Not here.”  
  
Emma remembered where they were and nodded.  
  
“Right, it’s…creepy…”  
  
She grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him towards her, kissing him once more before leading him towards the bug, walking backwards so she could keep her eyes on him.  
  
Emma pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed Henry, keeping one hand in August’s.  
  
“Mom?”  
  
“Hey kid. Listen, I know you were going to spend all day with your grandpas, but I have a surprise for you. So have your grandma pick up breakfast from Granny’s and then you and your Grandpa Charming can swing by and pick Grandpa Geppetto up, okay?”  
  
August lifted an eyebrow and Emma shook her head, so he wouldn’t say anything.  
  
“Mom…does this have anything to do with me getting a baby sister?”  
  
Emma glanced up at August with a smirk.  
  
 _Not yet_ , she thought.  
  
“Kid, just be home for breakfast, okay? I love you.”  
  
“Love you too, mom.”  
  
Emma snapped her phone shut and August pressed her against the door of the bug.  
  
“’Grandpa’?”  
  
She wrapped her arms around his neck.  
  
“Your dad _really_ likes Henry. He’s even teaching him…stuff. What in the Hell does a wood carver do anyway?”  
  
August smirked and Emma rolled her eyes.  
  
“Besides that.”  
  
August leaned in and kissed her quickly.  
  
“They do lots of _stuff_.”  
  
“Hmm, well, we have until morning; do you want to show me some of this ‘stuff’?”  
  
“I’ve already showed you my ‘stuff’, but I suppose I could be per-“  
  
Emma cut him off with a kiss and he smirked.  
  
“Why don’t you take us home, Princess?”  
  
Emma could get used to that nickname.  
  
Killing the engine, Emma watched as August looked up at the apartment building. He was more handsome than she’d remembered and she never wanted to let him out of her sight again. And while she had a million questions for him, there was only one thing she wanted to do right now.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
She smiled.  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
Emma popped off her seat belt and climbed over to the passenger’s side, straddling August.  
  
“Princess, I don’t think there’s enough-oh, well if you’re going to do that, then-“  
  
Emma chuckled and sat up to allow more room for her hand but hit her head, hard, in the process.  
  
“Don’t even-“ She warned, seeing the amused look on August’s face.  
  
August pulled her down to his level and kissed her forehead.  
  
“Let’s do this upstairs, you impatient little minx.”  
  
Once they were back in the apartment, August pressed Emma against the door and tucked a loose piece of her hair behind her ear. His gaze was so intense butterflies began to flutter in her stomach.  
  
“I love you, Ems.”  
  
Emma closed her eyes and tried not to laugh.  
  
 _Of course…_  
  
She opened her eyes and smirked.  
  
“I love you too.”  
  
August watched her warily.  
  
“What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?”  
  
Emma pushed away from the door, took his hand, and drew him towards the bedroom. When the back of her knees hit the mattress she wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and brought his lips to hers, still smirking.  
  
“Emma?”  
  
“We’re going to make a baby.”  
  
August was taken aback.  
  
“Right now?”  
  
Emma nodded.  
  
“Oh yeah.”  
  
August pondered her words and after a moment, nodded, a look of bemusement crossing his features.  
  
“All right, if my Princess commands it of me, I suppose I don’t really have a choice.”  
  
Emma fought back a smile and shook her head.  
  
“You really don’t.”  
  
The sun flittered in through the curtains and Emma groaned, rolling over to hug her pillow but she hit a warm body instead. Emma sat up so fast, the blood rushed to her head and she gave herself a headache. Cursing, she recalled the night before and smiled slowly.  
  
She reached over to run her fingers through August’s hair, wondering if he was up for round five when she heard the sound of her dad’s truck downstairs.  
  
“Crap!”  
  
Emma jumped over August, waking him in the process, and began gathering their clothes from the night before. Throwing his clothes on the bed, she hurriedly dressed.  
  
“August! My parents! Get up!”  
  
“What?” He groaned and sat up to pull on his pants, but he wasn’t fast enough for Emma so she gathered his shirt and pulled it over his head. Once she got his arms through August caught her wrists and pulled her into his lap, kissing her.  
  
Emma chuckled into his mouth and drew away from him.  
  
“Not now.”  
  
“We’re both dressed, its fine,” he insisted, giving her another smooch.  
  
She’d been through Hell over the past few months over him and he wasn’t the easiest man to resist to begin with, so she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. August ran his hand over her back, resting it over her bottom before pressing her body against him. Emma moaned into his mouth, forgetting all about Henry and her parents for a moment.  
  
But only for a moment.  
  
“Mom, we got French-“  
  
Charming’s keys fell to the floor with a loud clang and Emma jerked away from August, her cheeks flushing.  
  
“August!”  
  
Henry left his fuckstruck Grandparents and ran into Emma’s room, throwing himself at the both of them. August let go of Emma to pull Henry against him.  
  
“Hey kid,” he whispered, hugging him tightly.  
  
Emma watched them with a smile and then wrapped her arms around both of them, kissing the top of Henry’s head.  
  
“How did you do it, mom?!”  
  
“Hey! How do you know she did it?”  
  
Henry pulled away with a smile, his arms locked around August’s neck.  
  
“Mom didn’t tell you? She has magic!”  
  
August gave her a ‘look’ and Emma shrugged.  
  
“Something about being the product of ‘True Love’ or some nonsense.”  
  
“And here I was thinking that kiss did it.”  
  
“Oh, mom tried that loads of times!”  
  
“HENRY!”  
  
August smirked and ruffled Henry’s hair.  
  
“Is that so?”  
  
Henry nodded.  
  
“Yup, she tried everything.”  
  
“Tell me more about ‘everything’.”  
  
Emma opened her mouth to speak but once again, she was interrupted.  
  
“Pinocchio?”  
  
Emma slid off of August and pulled Henry into her lap, allowing August to stand and move towards the common area.  
  
August and his father watched one other for a long moment before they threw their arms around one another. Geppetto held August closely, crying, while repeating ‘my boy’ over and over again and Emma could make out ‘I missed you too father’ from August’s end. She held Henry closer and enjoyed watching Geppetto have his moment.  
  
“How did you do it?” Henry whispered.  
  
Emma kissed his temple and smiled.  
  
“The same way I brought you back, kid, I just didn’t do it right before.”  
  
She had kissed Henry goodbye before leaving to slay the dragon and that hadn’t broken the curse. It wasn’t until after he’d ‘died’ and she told him she loved him for the first time that True Love’s Kiss worked. So it wasn’t until she did that same with August that she was able to save him. If she’d figured that all out a lot sooner, she’d have saved them all a world of hurt.  
  
“Emma?”  
  
Snow still stood with her mouth half open while Charming was trying not to rage over finding his daughter on top of a man.  
  
Emma just gave them both a smug smile.  
  
“I told you he wasn’t dead.”  
  
Henry hopped off her lap and ran towards the kitchen to get their breakfast on the table. Emma followed him slowly. Geppetto released August and went for Emma, kissing her face.  
  
“You did it! Thank you.”  
  
Emma gave him a small nod, happy to see him joyous for once.  
  
“Henry, my boy!”  
  
Geppetto hugged Henry who began asking when they could finish working on ‘Operation Swan’. Emma shook her head, not wanting to know.  
  
August grabbed her by the waist from behind and pulled her against him. He placed a small kiss on her neck before whispering into her ear.  
  
“Speaking of, what do you say we work on ‘Operation Booth’ tonight?”  
  
Emma turned her head, giving him an ‘excuse me’ look.  
  
August spun her around and pulled her against him, giving her a quick kiss. He placed a hand over her flat stomach and winked.  
  
“You know what.”  
  
She shook her head.  
  
“I can’t wait to see your face when you realize I wasn’t joking.”  
  
His eyes twinkled for a moment before his lip curled into a smirk as if to say ‘challenge accepted’.  
  
“Your Majesties?”  
  
Emma didn’t have to look to know her mother was physically restraining her father from pulling August aside to have a ‘talk’ at that moment.  
  
“Yes, August?”  
  
“I’d like your permission to marry this stubborn daughter of yours.”  
  
“YE-“ Geppetto covered Henry’s mouth, but it was too late, everyone knew August had Henry’s approval.  
  
Snow exchanged a look with Charming who was not pleased. Emma was still his little girl, after all, and the only thing he knew about August was that his daughter had spent months in torment over him. Eventually, Snow’s stare won and Charming reluctantly let out a sigh.  
  
“If Emma says ‘yes’ then fine. And we’re going to have a long talk.”  
  
Emma rolled her eyes.  
  
August nodded and released Emma, joining Henry at the table. Emma stood there for a moment, flabbergasted. Was he…  
  
“Well?”  
  
August glanced up at her.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Are you asking?”  
  
“No, I was asking if I have permission to ask. See, this stubborn Princess I know took months to save me and I think I need a long time to recover before I commit to anything,” he teased, popping a piece of French Toast into his mouth. “Then again…I do want to make sure our little Operation is done properly, so…I could decide to commit at any time. I guess you’ll just have to be ready at all times, Princess.”  
  
Emma scoffed in offense before she moved to the table, joining everyone else.  
  
“Does this ‘operation’ have anything to do with me getting a little sister, because I want one of those,” Henry whispered to August and of course, everyone heard him.  
  
Emma choked on her orange juice and even Charming laughed.  
  
“All right kid, my first act as your new dad is to teach you about filters,” August muttered, ruffling his hair.  
  
“Cool.”  
  
“Hey, no one said you’re allowed to parent my kid.”  
  
“Whatever you say, Princess,” August teased. “Whatever you say.”  
  
For all of August’s teasing, less than a week later, Emma woke with a very simple, very ‘Emma’ engagement ring on her finger. August didn’t even bother to ask, he was cocky enough to expect a ‘yes’ and Emma was damaged enough to be freaked out at the idea of some big romantic proposal.  
  
And the wedding itself?  
  
Even simpler. Just them, the parents, Henry, Ruby, Granny, and Archie, with the Blue Fairy officiating. Emma only bothered with actually going through with it for her father’s sake.  
  
“So, Henry’s spending the afternoon with your father,” Emma whispered, wrapping her arms around August from behind.  
  
“Is that your way of telling me that you want to work on ‘Operation Booth’?”  
  
“We could…but it’d be pretty futile seeing as the operation has been completed.”  
  
August spun around, dropping the spoon he’d been using to stir their dinner.  
  
“Are you saying ‘Operation Baby’ is a go?”  
  
Emma smirked, her eyes twinkling.  
  
“Oh yeah.”  
  
August lifted her up and twirled her around before kissing her fiercely.  
  
“I love you, Ems.”  
  
“I love you too.”  
  
 _And always, every time, it takes your breath away._


End file.
